The men figured out, afterward, that in the utter cold of the planetoid's "night" the rocket motor had cooled to the brittle point of metal. When the rocket was fired, the frozen metal flew apart before it could warm up and thus restore normal strength throughout its thickness. McCauley berated himself to Randy, because he had not anticipated this fact. The rest of the salvo was held until "sunset" the next day, and was fired within five minutes of the coming of darkness, before the metal could cool to brittleness. The other near-tragedy happened when a rocket took off and the flame splashed against a glistening metallic upcrop and licked fiercely at Soames' space-suited legs. He jumped convulsively, rose out of the flame before it could either cook his legs or melt down his space suit, and, gasping in horror, soared off and up to the length of his safety rope. The rocket went past him no more than a dozen feet away. Its exhaust could have burned him to a crisp, or at the least flashed his plastic faceplate. That was a very close call indeed. Presently Fallon came looking for McCauley. The mechanic was coming off-shift and still wore his space suit. He opened the faceplate, grinning nervously. "Look here, Colonel," he said ingratiatingly, "I've got something I want to say to you." "Go ahead," said McCauley. He was still bitterly discontented with himself. Actually, Soames should not have been so near the rocket blast, but McCauley felt responsible because he hadn't ordered him specifically away. "Soames had a pretty close call," said Fallon nervously. "Yes," said McCauley curtly. "Hathaway had another," said Fallon. "When that rocket blew, he could have been killed. He should've been." "I know it," snapped McCauley. "I ... I ..." Fallon hesitated. "Look, Colonel! We had a--disagreement. I acted like a fool. I want to apologize." McCauley scowled. There were innumerable things to worry about, and Fallon was one of them. McCauley had taken the one line that might keep Fallon from making trouble. He'd scared him, and it seemed to have worked. But for Fallon to come to apologize was something else. It meant that his attitude had changed from almost mutinous defiance to panic. "Forget it," said McCauley. "I--didn't have you figured right," said Fallon shakily. "I thought you were ... just the usual kind of character. I ... I know better now. I'd--I'd like to ... well ... you're likely to need somebody to help you. Maybe you don't think so, but if you knew you could count on me...." Fallon's voice practically clicked off, and McCauley realized that he was terrified. The man was afraid to say something, but he was more afraid not to. "What would I need you for besides your duty?" Fallon hesitated, licked his lips, and then said desperately: "Soames and Hathaway--they almost got theirs. I've been thinking. If ... accidents happened to us ... to all but you...." "Go on," said McCauley, frowning.